The End of the Beginning
by ljp
Summary: After the loss of a very important presence in their lives, Lois and Clark take the first steps toward their future and their destiny.
1. 1

The End of the Beginning

**The End of the Beginning**

_By ljp_

**Disclaimer:** _Smallville_ and _Superman_, including Lois Lane, Clark Kent, etc. are not mine but rather belong to Warner Bros. and the CW and DC Comics.

**Summary**: After the loss of a very important presence in their lives, Lois and Clark take the first steps toward their future and their destiny.

1.

Clouds had settled over the cemetery, fitting for the mood of the morning. They hung low, damp in the air, but didn't leak. A crowd gathered around a dark coffin that sat above a six-foot hole in the ground. At the far end sat a tombstone as of yet unmarred by weather and age. It was daunting, standing there beside a mound of dirt and the small crowd of friends and family, and it spoke of a life that was cut too short.

Clark's hand settled at Lois's lower back and didn't move. He spread his fingers out against the back of her dress, feeling the zipper arch under his thumb. He listened to her heart beating, focusing on that instead of the preacher's words.

The words a preacher speaks at a burial – _ashes to ashes, dust to dust_ – trivialize a life, Clark thought. They don't talk about the life lived, just the way the life has disintegrated, returned to the dust that it once raised from.

Lois leaned into his touch, just slightly, just enough to be noticeable. She tensed when the preacher said the final blessing. She turned, just barely, and looked at Clark. "Take me home?" she asked. She placed a hand on his arm.

"Wait," he said, his voice hoarse, as if he'd been up all night, which he had. "Let me say goodbye." His fingertips slowly slid away from her and, as the crowd dispersed and small handfuls of dirt were tossed alongside the roses onto the lowering coffin, Clark stepped forward.

He ran his thumb over the thorn on the side of the rose in his hand. He wished, at that moment, that the thorn would break the skin. He wanted to feel it prick him, watch himself bleed. He bent and dropped the rose into the hole. He stared at the red lying against the black coffin. He looked at the headstone. He blinked. "I'm sorry," he barely whispered, "I'm—good-bye, Chloe."

He found Lois looking at the ground standing in the same spot he'd left her in. He reached for her hand. "I'll take you home now," he said.

She looked at him, interlaced their fingers, and said nothing. She nodded and let him lead her to his truck. She let him hold open the door for her. They drove in silence, and Lois reached across the seat and took Clark's hand again. He let her pull it into her lap and cover it with her other hand. She stared out the window away from him.

--

Lois's hand in his felt comfortable. She was warm, her hand tiny in his, and she didn't let go as they climbed the steps to her apartment over the Talon.

"Lois," he said, after she opened the door. "I need to apologize."

"For what?" She didn't look at him.

"I couldn't save her."

Lois looked at him then, dropping his hand. She opened her mouth for a moment, shook her head just barely then spoke. "How could you have? Smallville, she was being held somewhere by someone who kept her there for days! No one knew where she was. We did everything we could."

"I should have known. I should have saved her. I should have tried harder." He banged the heel of his hand off doorframe.

"Stop it!" she hissed, and she spun to face him. "Clark, this was not your fault. Why do you always blame yourself for death? You can't stop death. No one can stop death."

"I can – people can stop murders," he argued.

"If I've learned one thing since I came here, it's that when a Luthor wants someone dead," Lois said carefully, "there's nothing we can do to stop it. She—Chloe knew what she was getting into."

"If I hadn't trusted Lex—"

"Smallville, _stop it_. Just—I don't want to talk about this now." She put her hands on his shoulders and shoved him. "I don't want to talk. I just—I want to—I need to do something."

Clark, surprised at the sudden movement, stumbled back a few steps until he hit the door. "I do," he protested. "I do want to talk about it. I want you to understand how sorry—"

"If I hear you say that one more time, Smallville, so help me you'll never have children."

"Lois—"

She cut him off with her mouth on his, shoving him back harder against the door, her hands going straight into his hair. She pushed her tongue into his mouth. She dug her fingers into his scalp and held his mouth against hers until she felt him start to kiss back. She moaned to encourage him. She dragged her fingers down the sides of his neck and pushed his jacket off.

Clark tried to say her name but it got lost in her mouth. He spun them around, knocking her into the wall. Lois was kissing him, and he couldn't think straight. He met her kiss for kiss, his tongue fighting with hers, his hands finding her hips, the sides of her ribcage, higher—he dragged his mouth over her jaw and found a spot under her ear to flick his tongue against her skin.

She tugged on his tie, pulled the knot away from his neck. Her hands went to the buttons underneath the tie and pulled at them. "Too many buttons," she breathed, and his mouth on her neck made her tip her head to the side. "Oh, God."

Clark found the top of the zipper at the back of her neck. It was stuck. He had to move his mouth from her and lean around to look at it. He tried to focus.

She pressed against him, her breasts flattening against his chest as he towered over her. She opened and closed her mouth against his neck and fumbled with his shirt and tie. She whipped his tie off and dropped it at their feet.

He pulled her away from the wall and together, tangled, they stumbled across the room. He managed to get the zipper halfway down her back and he touched the bare expanse of skin he'd revealed. His legs hit the couch and he fell back onto it, pulling Lois with him.

She pushed her hands under the sides of his shirt, up over his shoulders, along the sides of his neck. She found his mouth again.

Clark peeled the sides of her dress off her, let it fall down her arms and bunch at her waist. He kissed away their thoughts of the funeral, of Chloe, of what he couldn't do. Their skin touched now, chest-to-chest separated only by a thin layer of lace.

Lois sat up on him, her hair cascading down her back. She reached behind herself and let the clasp go.

He disentangled himself from his shirt and arched up to kiss her, his lips smacking against her jaw instead of her mouth. He tucked a finger under the strap of her bra and helped ease it down her arm as she turned her head and kissed him properly again.

She trailed her fingers down his chest and popped open the zipper on his pants. She giggled when he sucked in his stomach.

In a sudden movement, he caught her hand in his. "Lois."

"Don't – talk –" she hissed. She bent over him and kissed him again, open-mouthed, hot, her hands shoving his pants down over his hips, off his legs. "Please."

He couldn't think when she touched him. He couldn't think when she kissed him. He knew he should be thinking clearly, knew that he shouldn't be doing this right now. Everyone grieves in different ways, but to give in to it this way – he groaned when she broke the kiss and crawled over him and rid herself of her dress.

Lois was straddling him on the couch, her knee pushed into the cushions, her hand on his bare chest, his mouth opening and closing against hers. She needed this. She needed him.

He put his hands on her hips and pulled her down against him, arching up at the same moment. In an instant, they were as one, panting and kissing and moaning and moving at first in a disjointed, erratic rhythm but soon as if they were made together for this.


	2. 2

2

2.

Lois woke with the sun cast across her face. She moaned wearily and rolled onto her back. When she didn't hit a warm body like she expected, her eyes shot open. "Smallville?" she called out. "Clark?"

She sat up, holding the sheet against her chest, and looked blurrily around the room. A flutter of paper at her movement caught her eye.

_I'm sorry._ There was more to the note, whatever it was scratched out so much that now there was a small hole poked through the paper.

She frowned and touched the corner of the note. So cryptic. So very Smallville. She folded the paper, slipped it into the small notebook on her nightstand, and stepped out of bed.

When she pulled up to the Kent farmhouse an hour later, she found herself shivering at the unnatural silence hanging in the air. "Mrs. Kent?" she called out. She stuck her head in the doorway to find Mrs. Kent bent over the counter, apple on the cutting board, fist wrapped around a knife. She wasn't moving, save her shoulders, which were shaking slightly.

"Martha?"

She turned, her face stained wet and red.

"What happened?" Lois's mind went to the worst, to more accidents, to the end of the world, to – "Where's Clark?"

"Gone."

She swallowed hard. She'd just seen Clark, just – touched him, felt his heat, wrapped herself around him, tasted him, had his hands dance over her skin, send her on edge; she'd just loved him.

Lois slumped against the counter too. "What do you mean, gone?"

"He left," Martha said, her voice low, hollow. "He has things to do, you understand. A destiny to fulfill." She let the knife clatter to the countertop. She stared at the apple halves.

"Destiny? What?"

"He'll be back. One day. He didn't know when. He – Jonathan wouldn't have let him go. It's too soon. It's not soon enough. I knew it would happen. His father's too strong."

"What does Mr. Kent have to do with this?" Lois asked. Her head was pounding. Her grip on the counter tightened.

Martha looked at her through dull eyes and shook her head. "Not Jonathan, Lois. His biological father. He wants Clark to – he has plans for Clark."

"How can he?" Lois exclaimed. "How does he have any right, any control over Clark's life? Why is Clark listening to him?"

Martha touched Lois's arm. "Lois, sweetheart," she said softly. She pulled in a breath and rubbed her nose. "I'm sorry. I'm not taking this well, and I'm – Clark is _fine_." She nodded once, too firmly. "He's a grown man, and it's just difficult, as a mother, to let him leave like this."

"I wouldn't let him either!" Lois burst out. "He has no right leaving, not now, not right after Chloe—"

It all crashed down on Lois in a moment as Mrs. Kent pulled her into a tight, motherly hug.

The night before, she'd grieved for Chloe in her own way, with passion and touching and buried-deep-down feelings and desires that she'd never wanted to let out. Clark's caresses, his – lovemaking – had done its purpose: she'd forgotten that she was upset. Now though, pitted up against reality, the reality that Chloe was dead and never coming back and Clark had left, Lois started to crumble. She had no reason to crumble, wanted to be the strong one, but even the strongest women break.

"I'm sorry," she gasped out, pulling from Martha's embrace and racing for the door. The screen slammed behind her as she ran past her car and into the barn. She stopped when she found herself inches from Clark's telescope then sank to the floor.

--

Lois stuck her head in the doorway of the Kent farmhouse and called out for Mrs. Kent for the first time in months. She smiled tightly when Martha came out of the kitchen, drying her hands on a red-checkered hand towel.

"Lois," she greeted, pulling the younger woman in for a brief embrace. "You look pale. Are you eating enough?" She pushed Lois's hair off her forehead and pressed her palm there. "Have you lost weight? I worry about you up in Metropolis all alone."

Lois shook her head. "Mrs. Kent – Martha – I'm _fine_. Just stressed." Working at the Planet and finishing her degree at night certainly was taxing. "It's good to see you." She hugged her again, trying to get away from the topic of her own life.

"Oh sweetheart, it's good to see you too." Martha touched Lois's cheek. "Are you sure you're okay? It's just – there's something about you. You look different."

Lois extracted herself from Mrs. Kent and went for the refrigerator. "Are things too quiet around here?" she asked. "Maybe you could come spend a week with me in Metropolis. You know I'd love to have you. Return the favor for all those months I stayed here."

Martha smiled. "Maybe I will. Now, sit. I made apple pie just for you and I want to hear all about life in the big city."

Lois soon found herself on her second piece of pie, having talked about the Planet and working with veteran reporter Perry White, who'd just been hired back. She talked about investigating Inter-gang and the sudden rise of the crime rate. She didn't want Mrs. Kent to worry, so she made sure to tell her how secure her apartment building was, that she never went out alone at night (a white lie, but necessary), that she always took photographer Jimmy Olsen with her on assignment. Still, she hadn't made it quite yet to the real reason for her visit to Smallville.

"I'm pregnant," she blurted out without warning.

Mrs. Kent lowered her fork, large chunk of pie on the end, to her plate. It took a moment and then she blinked. "Oh! Oh, Lois that's – I didn't know you were seeing anyone."

"I'm not," Lois admitted. "I –" She didn't want Martha to be disappointed in her, but it was only right that she know. "It's Clark's."

Martha blinked and started to shake her head. "I'm sorry, Lois, but I thought you just said it's Clark's."

Lois looked at the crumbs littering her plate. "I did," she said quietly.

She was quiet for a long moment. When Lois looked up at her, Martha was staring at the wall above Lois's shoulder. She shook her head. "I – didn't even know that the two of you –"

"We weren't," Lois said quickly. She regretted it immediately. It made it sound that much worse. "I mean, no, we weren't together or anything, I'm sorry. It was the night of Chloe's funeral. It just – happened, and he was gone in the morning."

Martha could remember those few days as if they'd happened yesterday. Her son had lost his best friend and she'd lost her son and, quickly after, the daughter she never had left her as well. She thought she ought to be more upset, upset at the fact that Lois was going to be an unwed mother, but instead she found herself smiling. "Oh Lois, sweetheart, that's wonderful."

She snapped her head up. "What?"

"I said that's wonderful. It – well, it's certainly a surprise, but you know I'll be here for you, right?" She reached across the table and took Lois's hand, squeezing gently. "Lois."

She nodded and sucked in a breath and the tears that wanted to slip out. "Damn hormones," she laughed. "Sorry. I – thank you, Mrs. Kent. I didn't mean to just blurt it out like that but I couldn't think of a better – and easier way to tell you you're going to be a grandmother."

"That was fine," Martha said, and she laughed a bit, breathlessly, with Lois. If Jonathan were still alive, he wouldn't be okay with this, Martha thought. But she was. She had to be. Lois was a strong woman, but even strong women couldn't do something like this alone. "You won't have to do this alone."

"You know where Clark is?" Lois asked.

Martha shook her head sadly. "No, no Lois I don't. I'm sorry."

She lifted her chin and nodded once. "That's fine. He – I can't blame him. He doesn't – didn't know. I don't think –"

"He wouldn't have left if he knew," Martha said quietly. "And you didn't know when he left. There's nothing you can do about it now."

"I don't want him to be mad at me."

"Oh sweetheart, I don't think that's possible," Martha said. She rubbed her thumb along Lois's cheek.

Lois pulled away and stood to pace. She rubbed her hands off her thighs and inhaled deeply. "It's just – Clark and I just happened. I know you don't want to hear this, but we did. We weren't together and we – there were no promises made and when it all comes down to it I'm just an idiot."

Martha was at her side in an instant. "Lois, don't. I know this isn't something that was planned or even necessarily something you wanted, but you're not going to be doing this alone. Look at me."

Lois looked at her, trying not to cry but being unsuccessful at it. She hated feeling this weak, that she needed someone else, but she knew Mrs. Kent wouldn't make her feel less than herself. "Thank you," she said.

As Mrs. Kent pulled her into a snug embrace, Lois's eyes slipped shut. She had been so worried about disappointing the older woman, and she was surprised by her warm reaction. She shouldn't have been too surprised though; she was giving Martha a grandchild. And like Lois, Martha Kent had an affinity for stray dogs and orphans, so why would an unwed mother be any different?


End file.
